English character to which I have already alluded. Viewing science by the light of reason, and religion by the light of reason, he arrives at the conclusion that Catholicity is the one religion that can, and the one religion that will, survive the complete and inevitable shipwreck of all other creeds. As an outsider he sees, of course, all things that belong to the Catholic religion foreshortened; his picture of the Church of Rome is deficient in drawing, in perspective, in coloring, in the distribution of light and shade. Nor could this well be otherwise, since it is necessary to look at her from a central point of view, in order to perceive the harmony of proportions, the classic simplicity of style, the matchless beauty of color. Nevertheless, how great is the gain when a mind drifting about without aim, desirous simply of finding relief somewhere from an overpowering, unbearable anxiety, ascertains at last where relief may be found, if relief is to be found at all.

And thus three successive stages seem to be quite perceptible: Giant minds, at first, leading the way, followed in turn by individual strong minds; next, the clergy, setting fresh canvas before the breeze, and sailing for Rome, but unable to make more than Civita Vecchia; and lastly, the nation, surging to and fro, shaking off the old yoke of prejudice, casting aside the glacial doctrine of science, looking about for new and safe moorings, and no longer unwilling to listen to the soothing strains of peace, and rest, and happiness that peal forth from the organ of the true Church of God.

Yet one step has to be taken by one and by all before that peace and that rest and that happiness can be attained, and of that one step Mr. Mallock speaks when he asks: "But that first decision, how shall we make it ?" answering: "That decision, if we have a will at all, lies with our will, with the will alone to make," which answer, however, is not full, since to secure the blessings of grace and peace and faith there is, above all, required humility, calling for help in prayer. Hence, let hesitating minds reflect well on the two words: "Pray and obey."

BE

NOTES ON SPAIN.

PART II.

EFORE quitting the subject of Toledo and its ancient rite, it may be interesting to my readers to compare the latter with certain other rites which here and there still survive in Europe. Unfortunately I had no opportunity of seeing the Mozarabic High Mass, which I regretted the more since I had found' that function, as performed at Milan and at Lyons, full of ritualistic interest. The ancient Ambrosian rite of Milan presents certain noteworthy resemblances to the Mozarabic Mass. Thus (1), after the elevation, the priest extends out his arms horizontally for a short time; (2) besides the Epistle and Gospel, a lesson from the Old Testament is also read, and (3) the priest never turns round to the people at any "Dominus vobiscum." The last circumstance is due to the fact that, according to the strict Ambrosian rite, the priest should celebrate facing the people (standing on the further side of the altar), and no doubt the former existence of a similar custom in Spain accounts for the fact that the priest does not turn round to the people at the Dominus vobiscum in the Mozarabic rite. It may be well to add here some other peculiarities observed in the Ambrosian rite, so that any reader who (more fortunate than the writer) shall witness the Mozarabic High Mass may be enabled to compare the two together.

According to the Ambrosian rite, the Gospel and Epistle are both sung successively from the same pulpit, which is on the Gospel side of the entrance to the choir. The albs worn at the High Mass witnessed were very short (not reaching so low as the knees), and with a "flounce." I was, however, much interested to see that they were "apparelled," the "apparels" being somewhat larger in size than the mediæval ones. It being advent, the deacon and subdeacon wore chasubles, but the deacon on removing his for the Gospel did not, as with us, put on a broad stole, but there was a curious rectangular ornament attached to his narrow stole, behind his left shoulder. The censer used had no cover, and, on this account, it was used in a peculiar manner to prevent its contents falling out; instead of being swung as censers ordinarily are, it was swung rapidly round in complete circles, first in one direction and then in the reverse manner. Each time before incensing the altar, the priest offered incense on his knees. At an early part of the Mass the canons all advanced in single file, and successively kissed a corner of the altar. At the offertory two old laymen (each

1 During a journey to Rome at the time of the Vatican Council.

wearing a white cloak with a black hood) came to the rails and offered altar-bread, and two women came to the entrance of the chancel and offered wine (the offerings being received by the deacon and subdeacon in silver vases), an interesting case of the survival of a primitive practice. During the greater part of the Mass the deacon and subdeacon stood sideways, each leaning with his arms on one end of the altar. The priest washed his hands, not at the offertory, but immediately before the consecration, and it was done with great ceremony, the deacon and subdeacon holding the two ends of a long cloth, and the assistants holding the basin and The priest again washed his hands, and in the same manner, after communicating. No bell was used at any part of the Mass, and that part of the canon which comes between the "Pater noster" and the "Pax Domini sit Semper Vobiscum" was sung as loudly as any other part. The Secreta also were sung aloud, like the Collects and Post-communions.

The ancient rite still surviving in France, namely, that of Lyons, has fewer differences from the Roman rite than has the Ambrosian; still it is very different, and in some of its differences it approximates to the type of the Mozarabic rite. Thus immediately after the elevation the priest extends out his arms horizontally,' and the whole Mass shows traces of having been originally said with the celebrant facing the people. As in the Ambrosian rite, the part of the canon after the Pater noster is sung out loud. At Lyons the subdeacon arranges the Corporal, etc., on the altar while the deacon is singing the Gospel. The priest washes his hands before the offertory as well as after it, the acolyte carrying a large towel on his shoulder, which the priest makes use of while in that position. The subdeacon remains behind the altar (where there is a credence table and where the chalice is prepared) from the offertory nearly till the elevation, and whenever the missal or any other object is removed from one side of the altar to the other, the assistants in carrying it pass across behind the altar, instead of in front of it as with us. After the offertory, the priest first incenses the altar (without the missal being removed), and then the deacon incenses it all round, walking completely round it, as in a Greek Mass. The subdeacon does not wear a veil on his shoulders as in the Roman Mass, but holds the paten inclosed in a small veil, not larger than that of the chalice, if it be not the chalice veil itself. No bell is used at any part of the High Mass, though it may at the Low Mass, which I have not seen. The Lyons rite is very majestic when the archbishop pontificates; for he is then attended. by no less than seven priests, seven deacons, and seven subdeacons.

1 As he does also in the Dominican rite, and as was done in the old Saracen rite.

Probably in the pontifical ceremonies of this rite, and in those of the Papal High Mass, certain customs still survive which once were more or less generally diffused.

Returning from this rather long digression (which I hope and think will not be without interest to many American Catholics) to the record of our Spanish ramble, I would advise travellers proceeding from Toledo to Andalusia first to return to Madrid, and thence start afresh, as we did, although it must be confessed that the short return journey was a very slow and tedious one, a change of trains being necessary at Algodor, with the chance of finding insufficient accommodations in the up-train on the direct line from Portugal. In our own case a shooting party, also returning, like ourselves, from Toledo, took possession of all the firstclass seats not already occupied, save those in an empty carriage ticketed, "Resarvado para las Señoras." Into this we accordingly got and refused to leave it in spite of entreaties and threats of officials, our reply being that we would most readily leave it for an inferior vehicle should any first-class female passengers appear at any station on the road to Madrid, but that while it remained without a tenant we might as well temporarily occupy it; and this we did (no lady appearing) for the rest of our journey.

We were not sorry to be again at the Fonda de la Pax at Madrid, for though Toledo is full of antiquarian and picturesque interest, it is not a place for comfortable sojourn, with its swarms of beggars, who swoop down on you from every corner, and who may bestow on you unpleasing epithets (I was called Pontius Pilate) if their appeals be disregarded. With the uneven and not too cleanly streets your eyes have to be directed pretty constantly downwards, and yet it is needful not to neglect looking above as well as below. Thus in one peregrination I was startled by some water falling just in front of me, and, looking up, perceived that it was due to the fact that a woman above was cleaning her teeth out of the window, without much regard to the passing stranger. We got back to Madrid on Saturday night, and next morning heard Mass in the fashionable church of the Order Calatrava,' in the Al

1 The military confraternity of Calatrava is a development of the Cistercian Order. It was founded in 1158, approved by Pope Alexander III. in 1164 and Gregory VIII. in 1187. The knights at first wore the Cistercian habit, but the needs of military life caused it to be first shortened and then discarded. Ultimately a mere secular dress came to be worn for ordinary use, but a white silk mantle, ornamented with a red cross flewry over the left arm, was the habit for all ceremonies. This order, like the other military orders, became rich, and degenerated, and in 1485 Ferdinand and Isabella united the grand mastership of the order to the crown, the Pope, Innocent VIII., having consented thereto.

In the year 1219 an analogous religious order for ladies was founded by Don Gonzalez Yañez. Their red cross was worn embroidered on the front of their habit.

cala, close to the hotel. It was filled again and again with an edifying congregation, particularly pleasing to a Northern visitor from the unobtrusive costume of the black-veiled ladies.

In the evening we started for Cordova, a journey of nearly sixteen hours, the train leaving Madrid at 9 o'clock in the evening and reaching Cordova at about a quarter to I the afternoon of the following day. The train was horribly full, and Spaniards of both sexes are somewhat fidgety travelling companions, everlastingly wanting to get out, and that on both sides of the carriage. All the males invariably smoke and have a great objection to an open window. This was the most uncomfortable journey we made in Spain; but was, after all, a miracle of comfort compared with the same journey as experienced by Lady Herbert of Lee ten years earlier.

Arriving at Aranjuez at 10.50, the rare luxuriance of trees was perceptible even through the obscurity of a moonless night. We reached Alcazar (just now made famous by an attempt at robbery by brigands) at 2.30 A.M. Soon entering the country of La Mancha, we found ourselves at dawning day in the famed Sierra Morena, at Venta de Cardenas, close to the scene of Don Quixote's penance and of the adventures of Cardenio and Dorothea, passing by the imposing defile of the Despeñaperros, or "throw over the dogs" (i.e., the infidels). About ten minutes past 8 we punctually reached Vadollano, whence travellers branch off to Linares, of mining celebrity now as in ancient times.

In a little more than another hour we reached the stationaffording the much-desired and very excellent breakfast,—of Menjibar, irreverently styled by English-speaking jokers, “Mangybar." By this time the rain began to descend in torrents. My next neighbor at the breakfast-table was an Anglican ecclesiastic of St. Paul's, Knightsbridge, who, to my dismay, informed me of his intention to walk from this point to Grenada. This, indeed, is the station whence a diligence starts for that city; but no persuasion could induce my new acquaintance to avail himself of it. Saying goodby to him with regret we started, and in another hour first saw the Guadalquiver (or great river), and another two hours and a half brought us to the much-looked-forward-to old Moorish city of Cordova. We drove to the Fonda Suiza, a large, clean, comfortable, but not cheap hotel, as the charge for board, lodging, and attendance was 12s. 10d. per diem. We reached it in a deluge. The rainy season of Andalusia had, we were told, began, and our anticipations for the future were not cheering. Our visit here, however, was enlivened by the kind attention of an English gentleman to whom we had letters, Mr. Rutledge,-known in Cordova as Señor Don Juan,-who held an important appointment in connec